


Creatures

by AVegetarianCannibal



Series: Creatures [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Diners, M/M, Monsters, Sex Work, Supernatural Elements, Supernatural elements not the show by the same name, truck stop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 06:25:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16279382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AVegetarianCannibal/pseuds/AVegetarianCannibal
Summary: Hannibal works as a fry cook in a small diner just off the interstate. Every day is the same until the day a creature walks through the door.





	Creatures

Hannibal was manning the deep fryer when, in a reflection off the chrome vent hood, he saw the creature walking into the diner.

He shook frozen potatoes into the mesh basket and lowered them into the oil, watching the thing without turning around. The creature was slender of build, hardly more than a skeleton draped in a sinewy black layer of skin. A great rack of antlers like a buck’s rose from his bald head. His eyes were silver, with no discernible iris or pupil.

None of the diner patrons seemed to notice that a monster was among them. When he pulled up a stool at the counter, a truck driver did look its way… but not in fear.

“You new ‘round here?” the driver asked, licking his lips.

“Just passing through,” the creature said. He sounded like a young man with a hint of a Southern drawl.

“Lookin’ to make friends?” asked the driver.

“Can’t ever have too many friends,” the creature said. “That’s what I always say.”

The driver got up and moved one stool closer. He leaned in close. “You a _good_ friend?”

“The best,” said the creature.

Hannibal drained the potatoes and dumped them under the heating lamp with more than a pinch of salt. He watched in the reflection as the driver got up and headed into the men’s room. A few seconds later, the creature followed him. Still nobody else had appeared to notice this odd new visitor in their midst.

“I’m taking my break,” Hannibal announced to the diner's other employees.

When he walked into the men’s room a minute later, he heard the driver’s satisfied groan. Hannibal wrinkled his nose and the stench of his semen and sweat. He was in the last stall with the creature.

“How much?” the driver asked.

“I don’t do it for money,” the creature said.

“So you’re just a freak,” the driver said, the disgust dripping from his voice.

“You’re the one who just got his dick sucked by a stranger in a truck stop,” the creature pointed out. “Speaking of which, put your little stub back in your pants.”

The driver cursed. The disgust in his voice turned to anger. Hannibal could see beneath the stall door: two pairs of very human-looking feet. The stall door slammed open as a young man stumbled backwards into the wall opposite. The driver fell upon him, gathering up the front of his thin tee-shirt in his fists and shoving him into the wall again.

Hannibal grabbed the driver by the back of his neck in one hand, by his forehead with the other and twisted in opposite directions until the fragile spine snapped. The driver slumped to the floor.

The creature no longer looked like a monster. He had the soft complexion of a man in his early twenties, rosy cheeks and wide blue eyes. His hair, curly and glossy brown, was long enough to brush his shoulders. He stared back at Hannibal, his mouth open, the boorish driver’s spunk still wet on his strawberry red lips.

“Holy shit,” the young man breathed.

“What’s your name?” Hannibal asked.

“Will,” was the answer. His gaze fell upon the driver. “Is-is he dead?”

“Soon enough,” Hannibal told him. “You will be, too.”

Will’s gaze snapped up to look at him. He jumped back, holding up his arms in front of him, defensive.

“Not from any harm caused by me,” Hannibal clarified. “But because you’re starving yourself. You can’t survive long on their bodily fluids. You need their meat.”

Confusion flickered across Will’s lovely face. “You—”

“Yes, I know what you are,” Hannibal said. “You were weakened. You hide yourself well enough from them for now, but not from me. _Wendigo_.”

“But— _how?_ ” Will asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I saw your reflection as I see my own,” Hannibal said. He let the illusion drop, let his own antlers and ebony skin show through. Will’s confusion turned to awe. “If you ask me, I will get you meat.”

He held out his long, bony hand. Will stared at it for a long time. He was young, in more than one way. He’d likely never killed for food before. Somebody had done this to him. He didn’t choose to become a monster, as Hannibal had. He needed help.

Will took his hand. His fingers trembled. “Yes, please,” he whispered.

Hannibal assumed his guise once more, and smiled at Will with a human mouth.

“ _My pleasure_.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> There's a continuation from Will's point of view, coming soon.


End file.
